AN: Wow, I can't believe all the positive response this story has gotten. I have a few more chapters after this one for those of you wondering what happens next. Thanks to everyone who is reading and for those of you who have taken the time to review: K Hanna Korossy, DearHart, Kathy, shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod, Alex098, waitingforAslan, AlxM, OldGirl-NoraArlani, Mile07, lexieconextreme, and my Guest reviewers. Next update on Thursday.
Dean flopped back against the pillows that Sam had put behind him. Getting changed had taken all his energy and he lay there trying not to pant. The warm clothes felt good and he felt more like himself fully dressed. His arms ached as the feeling came back into the abused muscles, but he'd grab some Tylenol later. He was still trying to process the fact that Sam was here and that the kid had found him. Sam was busy tidying the room so Dean took the opportunity to take a good, long look at his brother. Sam looked good. He'd filled out a bit in the 15 months since Dean had last seen him up close. The kid had a healthy glow, not dark enough to call it a tan because, let's face it, Sam was definitely spending more time with his books than at the beach, but California had added some colour to his cheeks. Sam's hair was ridiculously shaggy, his bangs kept drifting into his eyes, but it suited him. Made him look like the rest of the college kids Dean had seen when he and Dad had swung by Palo Alto. They'd visited a number of times over the past year, but by mutual, unspoken agreement, they had kept their distance and made sure that Sammy didn't see them.
Sam must have felt Dean watching him, because he stopped puttering, and came back to perch on the edge of the bed.
"How are you doing?," Sam asked, hazel eyes staring at Dean with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable from anyone else.
"Better than I was," he said. The comment lacked the casual tone Dean had been going for, but it was the truth. His brother handed Dean the bottle of water again and watched as he drank another few swallows. Dean watched as Sam seemed to well up and start swallowing rapidly, a familiar sign that he was trying to keep it together. Sammy always was emotional and he hated to see his brother so upset. Ignoring his sore shoulder, he reached out a hand and patted Sam's closest arm.
"I'm gonna be fine, Sam," he said, hoping to reassure the kid. It didn't seem to work. Sam shook his shaggy head and flashed a weak smile.
"I know," he said thickly. "I'm just glad I found you."
Just then there was a knock on the door. Dean immediately reached for a weapon, but he didn't have his gun on him, and the weapons bag was across the room. He scowled when Sam nonchalantly walked over and opened the door without checking. It was a good thing Dad wasn't here because he would be pretty pissed at Sam's lack of caution.
xxxxxx
Sam opened the door part way. Caleb was standing there.
"Hey Sam. How you doing?" Sam should have expected for their friend to stop by. After all, Caleb had been nothing but kind to Sam since he'd arrived. Plus, he had to have noticed that his car was back. Sam intended to open the door wide and show their friend the miracle that was a living Dean. But oddly his grip tightened on the doorknob for a second. He trusted Caleb, but suddenly he felt oddly protective of his brother. Sam's lack of response seemed to make the older hunter feel awkward and he rocked back and forth on his heels.
"Uh, I saw that the car was back and I was gonna go grab some food, so I was wondering if I could get the keys?" Caleb sounded almost sheepish, and Sam realized how rude he was being.
"Of course. Uh, I should tell you…" Instead of words, Sam just let the door swing open so that Caleb could see Dean propped up in bed. It had been over a year since he had lived like a hunter, and Sam had learned to let go of some of the paranoia his father had drilled into him all his life. It wasn't needed at school. Which is probably why it never occurred to him to be worried about revealing Dean. But instead of shocked happiness or confused questions, Caleb swiftly pulled his gun and pointed it at Dean.
"What the Hell Sam!" he shouted as he moved into the room, blocking the exit and getting closer to the bed. Dean sat very still, open hands resting on the blankets, alert, but not reacting.
"Caleb, no! It's him, it's really him." Sam tried to position himself between the gun and his brother. Caleb kept his focus locked on Dean as he asked.
"Did you test him?"
Sam immediately felt stupid. He had known from the moment Dean had said his name that it was his brother chained up in that room. There was something so quintessentially Dean in the way he moved, spoke - hell even how he smelled. But Caleb didn't know that and Sam couldn't explain. Dean spared him from having to admit his lapse.
"We were just getting to that," Dean said calmly, even though his voice still sounded rough. "Sammy, get a silver knife." He pointed at the weapons bag with his chin, keeping his hands still. Sam automatically did as he was told, rummaging through the weapons until he found a silver dagger. Slowly showing it to Caleb, who still had Dean firmly in his sights, he moved over to the bed. Dean held out his forearm. Sam didn't want to cut his brother, but it seemed to be the only way to defuse the tense situation, so he made a small nick with the silver blade. Caleb watched intently and then, on impulse, Sam dragged it across his forearm too.
"See, neither of us is a shifter." Sam heaved a quiet sigh of relief when Caleb lowered his weapon and stumbled a bit closer to them.
"Dean, is that really you?" Caleb sunk onto the edge of the other bed looking shell shocked. "How is that possible?"
"Yeah, it's really me," Dean croaked. Sam tossed the knife back towards the weapons bag and pushed the water into Dean's hand again. He wadded up some tissue and pressed it against Dean's arm until the bleeding stopped. He sat beside his brother's knee, as eager as Caleb to understand what was going on.
"So, I think there was a shapeshifter working with the witch, because somebody clocked me from behind just as I walked into the warehouse. When I came to, someone who looked an awful lot like this handsome mug, was chaining me up and taking my stuff." Dean pointed to his own face as he talked and Caleb barked a short laugh.
"Well, I'll be damned. But I don't think that the witch was working with the shifter because it was the witch who stabbed him. She must have thought he was you because he taunted John about killing his partner and using the blood for a spell." Caleb explained with enthusiasm. Sam felt a flash of sympathy that Dad had gone through that. The three men sat puzzling over the odd circumstances.
"Before I found Dean, I saw a room in the basement of the warehouse where someone had been staying. It was pretty obvious that they'd been there a while." Sam offered the little information he knew. Dean frowned and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well it wasn't the witch staying there, 'cause she was in Boise last week and Pocatello before that. We've been following her trail and Dad figures she only got here on Sunday." Dean sounded tired, and Sam could see him struggling to put the clues together through his exhaustion and what was likely a concussion.
"Then the shifter had to be living in the warehouse before the witch moved in," Caleb speculated. Sam found he didn't care one way or the other. The only thing he cared about was that Dean was alive and safe beside him. Dean sagged back against the pillows. Caleb caught Sam's eye.
"Well, whatever happened, it's sure good to see you, Champ." He reached out and patted Dean's blanket covered knee. " I'm gonna go grab some food, anything you want?" As Caleb spoke, Sam picked up his jacket from the floor where Dean had dropped it. He fished out the keys to the Mustang and passed them over to their rightful owner.
"Cheeseburger, extra onions," Dean said heavily before closing his eyes and leaning further back into the pillows. "And some pie." Caleb and Sam exchanged a smile and Sam got up to walk the older man out of the room. They kept their voices low.
"Maybe you could get him some juice, and some soup or scrambled eggs or something. He hasn't eaten in a while." Sam knew Dean had likely gone for a day and half without food, and he didn't think Dean was quite ready for greasy red meat.
"You got it." Caleb reached out and squeezed Sam's arm companionably. "I'll bring back some food. Have you told your Dad yet?" When Sam shook his head, Caleb chuckled. "Wow, this is going to blow John's mind." Sam's smile disappeared at that. In the joy of finding Dean and taking care of him, he'd barely thought about their father.
"Where is Dad?" Sam was curious and a bit nervous about what had happened after his dramatic exit. The smile fell off of Caleb's face as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"He watched the pyre burn down, then drove us back here. He never said a word, but once I got out of the truck, he took off again. I think he just wanted to be alone, you know?" Sam would have been annoyed at being dumped, but Caleb just sounded concerned. "You should give him a call. I know you and your Dad butt heads, but he's been through a lot and he should know about Dean." Caleb gave Sam a sympathetic look, then turned and walked towards the parked vehicles. Sam shook his head as he retreated back into the room, closing the door behind himself. Dad was probably in the corner of some dive bar, getting blackout drunk. It was their father's usual method of coping with emotion.
Turning back to the bed, Sam found Dean asleep. His face was lax and he looked peaceful, but it bothered Sam to see his brother so still. It was too much like the body he had grieved over. Of course, he told himself he was being silly, that Dean was right here, safe and mostly sound. Pulling one of the chairs closer to the bed in case Dean needed anything, he settled back to wait for Caleb to return. Silly or not, he found himself mesmerized by the soft rise and fall of Dean's chest as he slept.
At some point, Sam must have drifted off himself, because he found himself startled awake by the sound of the key at the door. His eyes went immediately to Dean who was still sleeping soundly, then went to the door. Caleb was trying to juggle some bags and a tray of drinks one handed, while he fumbled with the room key. Sam opened the door and took the tray from him. Just like Sam, Caleb's eyes went right to Dean and a smile crossed his face.
"I thought I might have imagined that he was back," Caleb said softly, putting the bags of food on the table. Sam had to agree, it felt surreal to have his brother back from the dead. Despite his gratitude and joy at having Dean back, a small part of him was almost frightened that there was some cosmic catch.
"Do you want to wake him up?" Caleb asked quietly.
"Yeah, he needs to eat and get some more fluids into him." Sam walked over to the bed as Caleb unloaded the food. "Dean," he said as he shook Dean's shoulder slightly and stepped back. He knew better than to be within swinging distance, but this time Dean merely blinked awake. Sam could see that he was a bit disoriented and crouched down into Dean's eye line so that his brother could see him.
"Sammy... hey, you okay?" Dean asked in a slurred voice as he sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. Sam resisted rolling his eyes. It was so like Dean to check on Sam before anything else.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam huffed with a soft chuckle. "How are you doing?" Dean stretched a bit, wincing as he moved his arms. He still, didn't seem to have full range of motion, but his movement was a lot better. Sam could see the faint pain lines around Dean's eyes, but his brother smiled at him anyway.
"I'm good, but I gotta take a leak." Dean flipped back the covers and pushed to his feet. He swayed, and Sam hovered, ready to catch him, but Dean waved him off. "I got it," he said as he shuffled across the carpet in his socks. Sam watched carefully. Dean seemed better, obviously still in pain, despite what he had said, but he made it to the bathroom without falling. Once Dean had closed the door, Sam went and stood by it, listening carefully for any sound of distress. Glancing over, he saw Caleb smirking at him.
"I'll be right back," the hunter said as he stepped outside.
In short order, Sam heard the toilet flush and the water run. He beat a hasty retreat back to the small table and sat as if he'd been there the whole time. The bathroom door opened and Dean paused, leaning against the door frame, looking around the room.
Come on, you need to eat," Sam called. His brother made his way to the table, slowly but his walk seemed stable enough. Dean had barely sat down when Sam handed him a two Tylenol and a cup of apple juice. He made a face.
"I'd rather have a beer," Dean groused without any heat.
"Yeah, well not with a concussion. Here, have some soup." Sam put a styrofoam carton of soup in front of Dean who sniffed it appreciatively and picked up the plastic spoon. Considering it was the middle of the night, Sam had no idea where Caleb had got the food, but it smelled great. He unwrapped a sandwich for himself and took a bite, more interested in staring at Dean than in eating. His brother shot him an exasperated glare.
"Eat your damn sandwich, Sam," he said while still focused on his soup. Sam suppressed a wry smile and took another bite.
Caleb let himself back into the room as Sam chewed. He had Sam's bag in one hand.
"I thought you'd prefer to hang out here tonight," he said, putting Sam's stuff on the end of the second bed. Caleb sat at the table and pulled Dean's phone, watch, wallet and the keys for the Impala from his pockets, laying them on the table among the containers of food. "Here, I figured you'd want your stuff back Dean." Then the young hunter flipped open a container of fries and began to eat.
Dean dropped his spoon for the moment and put his watch on, tucking the keys and other items into the pocket of his hoodie.
"Thanks, man," he said. Dean snuck a hand out and grabbed a french fry, stuffing it into his mouth before Sam could say anything. He smirked at Sam then, and then with a false meekness, picked up his spoon and went back to his soup. Caleb laughed around a mouthful of fries.
"Guess you're feeling better." Sam just shook his head at the two of them, glad to see Dean more like his usual self.